<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>The Apology by deanwinchester79</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29020158">The Apology</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/deanwinchester79/pseuds/deanwinchester79'>deanwinchester79</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 13:47:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,990</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29020158</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/deanwinchester79/pseuds/deanwinchester79</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>There isn’t any smut, this story is all about Sam getting kidnapped in a hunt gone wrong. As the reader and Dean, who are in a complicated relationship, search for him they discover he was taken to an abandoned building infested with vampires and try to get him back.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dean Winchester/Original Female Character(s), Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester/You, Sam Winchester/You</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. If Whiskey Could Talk</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He always seemed distant. He was lost in his thoughts all the time, chasing them away with whiskey. He did it so often I studied it, for instance how he does 3 ice cubes with about 4 seconds of liquor. I knew he wouldn’t be himself after everything he’s been through. I mean we got into this business because of death. </p><p>“Hey, it’s all going to be okay. We’ll get him back.” I supported Dean and gave him my most comforting smile. The twinkle that hung in his green eyes were just so startling, that every time I saw them, it was like the first time. Falling all over again. It was like he was having a competitive staring contest with the melting ice cubes in his glass. “He’s been gone for a week. Everything is a mess and I don’t think he’s coming back, (y/n),” Dean still didn’t break his stare with the now 2 ice cubes and 2 seconds of liquor, he just brushed a hand through his short ruffled hair.</p><p>It was the next morning in the rundown hotel room when I woke to Dean searching things on his laptop at the table. I probably laid there for 30 minutes just watching his cycle: Type something, stare for a few minutes, take a slug, repeat. I finally decided to get up, given it was 10:48 in the morning, it was a late start for me. After the morning routine, Dean was still at the laptop but now with the whole bottle. “Hey, did you get any shut eye?” I slid my arm across his shoulder and rested my chin on his other. His eyes didn’t lose the ‘revenge seeking glare’ on the screen filled with hundreds of windows. He gulped back some Jack Daniels and shook his head and let out a not much reassuring breath. “I’m going to take that as a no,” I patted his bicep and got up from his figure. Sliding on my worn out leather jacket with boots and grabbed my wallet from the nightstand drawer. Opening the door with a creak caught his attention from the artificial light. “Where you going, got a hot date?” He questioned with a rough voice given he hasn’t said anything in 10 hours. “No actually I was going to the diner down the street for a hot meal, if you want to call it a hot date.” I laughed at my last comment, finding my puns entertaining, so did Dean. “I was just about to ask you to come with me, they’re known for their pie.” I winked, acknowledging the fact that pie was the only thing he’d never shoot down. His eyes lit up with that twinkle again. With a smile vastly spreading across his face, he threw his own worn out leather Jacket over his shoulder, wasting no time to get out the door. Before we jumped into his car, “You’re not driving,” he declared clearly. </p><p>“If you want me to pay for your pie, then yeah, I am driving. Oh c’mon just let me once.” I begged, he threw me the keys with a simper. The classic black 1967 Chevy Impala roared to life as Dean was about to give me instructions.</p><p>“No need,” I lifted a hand, “My dad didn’t take me to the shop everyday for nothing.” I glanced a smirk at Dean and rolled out of the lot, as the same time his eyes did.</p><p>We sat at a booth in the corner with a view out the window of Lebanon, Kansas’ streets starting to fill with cars rushing to and fro. Dean just stared out the window watching them pass by, I wanted to know what he was thinking. I wanted to be a part of his thoughts so he wouldn’t torture himself with his imagination. </p><p>“Hey, what’s up. What are you thinking?” I tilted my head a little to attempt to get into his peripheral vision. He just steadily lowered his head down, resting his cheek upon his shoulder. I knew he was going to say something, that’s his ‘about-to-say-my-deep-thoughts’ look.</p><p>“I don’t know,” He shrugged his shoulders, “I guess I just can’t stop thinking about Sam, and how if he was here he’d be telling us to get up and do our jobs.” He raised his voice pausing at the end waiting on himself to say his next sentence. I knew he was aggravated with the circumstances right now but, he loves his job more than any human being ever could.</p><p>We work together in this line of business, hunting down what really does lurk in the night. Monsters. Saving people, hunting things that’s our business. I guess the title sounds a bit more larger-than-life than what it really is. We move from cheap hotel room to the next, looking for cases of mysterious deaths or occurrences in towns, mainly the small ones. We don’t even get paid, not even a thank you, lucky if I even get called crazy. It’s not a job most realistic people set out to maintain, but it’s a job. And hey, someone needs to do it, and we’re the best for it.</p><p>“But, if I had just been two seconds earlier he actually could be sitting right here,” He pointed next to him, “If I had just-” I decided to end his self torturing.</p><p>“No, Dean you do not have the right to beat yourself up about this! It’s not your fault, we just need to be more careful and prepared next time. And we will go on hunts, and we’re still going to look for him. We’re going to find Sam, don’t worry, we are going to get him back. So stop beating yourself up and be the guy that I know and love.” I placed my hand over his folded in front of him and just gave him my once again head tilt but with a sweet smile, to show him he’s important to me. Once our hands were tangled together, he finally looked up at me and into my eyes. The waitress brought out two steaming plates of apple pie slices that we ordered when we walked in the door. His eye twinkle was back again. I couldn’t help but just smile at him like a mom does when their kid is laughing and playing. Falling all over again. He was going for the fork and didn’t bother putting down a napkin, I put my hand out stopping him from scooping up a huge apple slice. He looked up at me like I just took away his new Christmas toys and told him to visit with family. I couldn’t help it but laugh. “Dean, it’s steaming hot, you’re going to get excited, take a bite, realize it’s 1000 degrees and spit it out, maybe shed some tears.”</p><p>“What’s wrong with that?” It took him a minute to realize I made a joke of him, “And hey! I don't cry, and if I did they’d be man tears.” He puffed out his chest like he was attempting to impress me. And sure enough I caught him huffing on the hot bite he just shoveled into his gorgeous mouth.</p><p>“Okay whatever you say, Man Tears.” I said jokingly, starting to blow on mine.</p><p>The pie was gone after two more slices, it even looks like he licked the plate entirely clean, they might not need to wash it. Dean leaned back resting his hands on his flat stomach, ”God, I’m stuffed.” He released a huff of breath filling the air with an apple pie scent. I felt so full, I was about to take a nap right there in the booth.</p><p>We walked to the car, interlocking arms from devouring so much pie the force of sleep was overpowering. I offered to drive the 4 minutes back to the motel where the dense mattresses were, but he wanted to. So I let him drive his pride and joy. </p><p>He unlocked the room with the rusted key and pressed firmly against the door so it would budge. We didn’t need to flip the lights on because the sun had a perfect shine right into the curtains leaving fairy dust in the air. The police scanner was going off with sheriffs ranting on about a Code 6, 44, and 24. It seemed Dean knew exactly what they were saying, I definitely needed a brush up on my scanner codes. All I could understand was 44, it meant kidnapping. He threw the pie we brought back for later on the table and grabbed the duffle bag from under his bed. He grabbed the radio and pushed me back into the car. “10-7, We’re 20 minutes till the abandoned barn off of Lincoln Road. Code 77, Out.” Dean had heard every word and disguised numbers and knew what was happening while he threw the bag in the back seat and rushed the engine as quick as the keys could.</p><p>“10-4.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. What's That, Lassie? Sammy's in Trouble?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Peeling out onto the main road, Dean was driving like Armageddon was 20 feet behind him. We pulled off into a dead end road called Lincoln Street, about an eighth of a mile from the barn. He got out while grabbing the duffle bag and headed to the trunk. He hadn’t said a word since the hotel parking lot, he had a blank expression on his face sort of like a jaw clenching, ticked off face. It was his look when he was getting revenge, or hunting on a case. He opened the trunk to a high-class artillery, he emptied the majority out of the duffle bag except a dagger, a sawed off shotgun and it’s wooden shells, and a machete into the trunk. He put a bottle of dead man’s blood in the bag and handed me my pride and joy. It was a machete that has been, loosely speaking, mine since I first started hunting. The boys gave it to me for my first case with them. It had a wooden handle with rust forming where the wood met the long blade. I don’t know why I enjoyed the safety of it in my hand, maybe because I know it'll protect me when the boys can’t. And cause pain to these creatures for all the pain they’ve caused me.</p><p>Dean still hasn’t said a word and it’s eating me alive. He slammed the trunk, his eyes gazing out as he spun on his heel down the road towards the barn with the bag over his shoulder. I grabbed his elbow pulling him around to face me. He was still clenching his jaw like he was trying to chew fat off a steak, his gaze was still upon the woods stretching along the side of the road; not once making eye contact with me.</p><p>“Hey, I know you're pissed but, you can’t walk into this fight blinded by hatred. We do our job, get our Sam back. County police are about 12 minutes away and we need to get in and out. Even if that means not killing every blood-sucker we see. We can find them again when we are more prepared and everything isn’t on the line. So please, Dean, please don’t get hurt.” He finally looked down at me, my brows knitted into worry and his expression softened when he looked at mine. His eyes were welling up with tears but he didn’t once blink. Looking at me, he knew, with me, he could be vulnerable and safe.</p><p>We had an unspoken bond, one could say. We treated one another like we were in a long and deep relationship, but we never granted the title. He stretched down around me and buried his head into my shoulder. I held him for a minute, wrapping my arms around his neck, gripping the ends of his hair, but any longer he would've fallen apart. Do not get me wrong, I’d love any day to pick up his delicate pieces one by one, but today wasn’t the day and now wasn’t the time. I eased him off whilst extending up to grab his face, running my fingertips in his scruff.</p><p>“Listen to me, we’re going to do this. It’s our job, nobody can do it like we can. Promise? Promise two bodies in, three out?” He smiled, looking down seeing my pinky extended out. He wrapped his pinky around mine whispering, “promise, (y/n).” A small tear shed from his right eye, “hey, hey. I love you Dean Winchester.” I wiped the drop from his cheek before it could reach his jaw line, my body still pressed against his stomach. I stood on my tippy toes and tilted my head in for a soft passionate kiss, one I knew he needed. One I knew he could melt into and feel safe with. One he could trust. Falling all over again.</p><p>	Realizing the time we wasted, we ran the short distance, maybe a minute, to the barn. The sun was starting to set fast behind the tall mountains, fading down through the trees that made up a forest. It usually sets around 4pm in mid November here. We went through the back door, it opened up to a back tack room that led into the open yet empty barn. Sam was tied to a chair in the corner right outside the tack room doorway, passed out with his head hanging low. His hair was all mangled with blood and straw, it sickened me seeing him like this. Dean ran to him immediately cupping his face. “Dean, clear the barn, I’ll get him.” He stood up, “I’m so sorry little brother, we’re getting you out of here.” He started for the few other rooms checking them, walking in and out while I untangled Sam from the ropes that tethered him to the chair. I grabbed his torn up face, shaking it a little bit hoping to wake him from his unconsciousness. He let out a low grunt, showing he was awake but weak and in pain featured by the blood crusted on his face. I untied the ropes from his wrists and ankles, cutting the rope on the back tying his waist to the chair. He collapsed onto the floor, my instant reaction was lifting him up by the forearm and wrapping his arm around my neck, dragging him out the doorway. When I heard Dean struggling in a room, at first I was just going to let him take care of it cause I know he can, but then he stopped. I set Sam outside the doorway, for a minute I heard faint sirens maybe 4 minutes out. I panicked, so I ran back in to see if he was okay, but that was till I saw straw lying in the way it would if there was a struggle. It looked as if a body was dragged from one room to the other, clutching my machete tight I steadily made my way into the room.</p><p>Dean was in a corner absolutely beaten up, he wasn’t unconscious but he was feeble. I raced to his side, lifting him up until I heard someone behind me. It seemed as if they weren’t expecting me to hear because they made it easy to slice off their head. Looked to me lately that they didn’t care, maybe we've killed all the smart ones and only the dumb offspring is left. I didn’t want to run into anymore, and by how close the sirens sounded I didn't want to run into them either. Therefore, I picked up the 200 pound man hauling him across the barn to his brother. Just as I slammed the door closed wiping down the knob so they couldn’t trace back to me, I helped Sam walk into the start of the dark woods leaning him against a tree aways in. He settled his side against it, since he was more awake than earlier, I didn’t have to set him down. I went back for Dean hearing the sheriff and his backup pull into the lot before the barn. I ushered him to the tree, he couldn’t stand very well seeing that he fell to the ground. I rushed down to his side, “Dean hey. Hey get up, all you have to do is walk back to the car. Just get up.” He broke his pain filled expression and got onto his knees. Me and Sam helped lift him up each bracing one of his arms around us. </p><p>All of us stumbling to the car, sore with agony and bruises. We leaned Dean against the car side, while I fumbled in his pockets looking for the keys. Even through all his injuries and weakness he managed to wink at me, I had the instinct to hit his chest but I knew his pain, so I just threw him an eye roll. Shuffling for the keyhole in the dark, we all heard sirens coming from up the road. Dean turned so he was facing the woods, Sam folded his arms so they couldn’t see the extremely visible lines from the ropes on his wrists. I had no injuries so I waved with a chipper smile, they started to slow down as I got the driver side door open.</p><p>“Howdy there folks, what’s goin’ on here?” I kinked my head with confusion to what he was talking about, then I remembered. Crap. I had blood splattered all over me from that vampire decapitation, “Oh, this?” He nodded at me like I was trying to play stupid.</p><p>I was.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm immediately adding the 3rd and final chapter of this story! It was going to be just two chapters but it would've been a very long 2nd chapter! Enjoy!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. They're All That I Needed</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter is a bit shorter than the others, but it was too big to fit onto the last chapter. I hope you enjoyed this short little  story! I have many more in the works that aren't done yet and I will be posting soon! PS a bit of smut/fluff at the end!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Trying to come up with a quick yet reasonable reason to be covered in blood at night, my mind blanked.</p><p>“Oh, we’re just on our way to a costume party. We’re all victims of a murderer.” Dean turned around revealing his bashed up face with a smirk and Sam lifted his arms up vertically. The officer just turned his head with hesitation. “Well, be careful ‘round here. It can get dangerous.” He rolled the window back up and I let free a gasp of air I didn’t know I was holding in. Dean turned to me with a dumbfounded look. “A costume party? Friggin’ murder victims?” Either he was shocked by how fast that came to me, or why that came to my mind first.</p><p>“Hey it saved our asses but we still need to get out of here.”</p><p>I drove back to the motel for the reason that the boys were exhausted and I wasn’t hurt.  Dean looked back at Sam leaning against the window, “I’m sorry lil’ Sammy, I didn’t mean for-,” Sam stopped him. “No need to apologize, Dean.” He gave his big brother a smile that, even though I couldn’t see it, I could feel it’s warmth.</p><p>We made it back, I took the duffle bag while the brothers took hold of each other. We couldn’t stop anywhere for food looking like this even though I had a stupid excuse. I offered the pie to Sam and he directly got a fork, he was just so hungry he didn’t care the temperature. Dean placed the duffel bag back under his bed where it belonged while I took the first aid kit from under the sink, and hustled him into the bathroom leaving Sam with his pie. He gave me a look such as “it-will-heal-I’m-a-big-boy” I just glared at him because he knows, no matter how much he begs, I’m still cleaning him up. I sat up on the counter dangling my feet in a happy motion, it was bloody, but this was my favorite part of the hunts. Just something about being this close to his face without having to make up a lame excuse filled me with some sort of normality. I was leaning completely against the wall, the counter wasn’t very long either. He pressed himself fully to the edge of the counter, to where my knees lightly brushed on his hips.</p><p>“Whelp, let’s get this over with, you know I hate this part.” He lifted off his shirt that was stained with his blood and most likely the vampires too. His image stayed unreadable as I outstretched over the sink to the tin box full of hydrogen peroxide and bandages. I first got a washcloth damp with warm water and cleaned up his cuts. “I’ll be careful, promise.” I whispered as he closed his eyes, preparing for the touch. I delicately pressed the cloth against his jaw bone where a gash was with a lot of dried blood down his neck. I held my other hand around the side of his neck; drawing him closer. He hissed at me with pain, striving to be as tough as he could. I gently pressed his chin up with my thumb rubbing off the stained blood that dripped down under his chin.</p><p>	After I finished the slow process of rinsing off his cuts I let them dry for a second, even the slight few on his chest. I dabbed hydrogen peroxide onto a cotton ball and softly rubbed them across the cuts. He released the most pain soaked groan I’ve ever heard.</p><p>“Shh, just a few more you got this,” after he breathed ordinary again he slid his hands up to the side of my thighs. I looked down astonished, glancing back up, his eyes were still sewed shut to muster up his strength for the rest of the cuts. The whole procedure filled the bathroom with his sounds of pain, it made me want to stop. He squeezed my thighs tighter, nodding his head for me to continue on.</p><p>	It was finally over and I dropped my hands on my thighs making a slapping noise indicating that it was done. Dean had his eyes closed the whole time, no doubt to keep himself from shedding tears. I stitched up the gash on his shoulder and used butterfly closure bandages on the one on his left temple and jaw line. The rest were just minor wounds. He let out his grief and dropped his head into my chest, reaching over around his frame, allowing us to hold one another. I finally let his pieces fall out of place, I voluntarily picked them all up. Holding him with his forehead resting on my shoulder, I just let him fall apart. However long he needed.</p><p>He propped himself back up looking down at me with tears in his eyes. It was only a few minutes, but it felt as if I hadn’t looked into them in forever. His emerald green eyes glistened with water.</p><p>“See, I told you I only cry man tears.” I just laughed.</p><p>“Never said you didn’t,” as I wiped them away from his cheeks, giving him a smile and soft kiss on his forehead.</p><p>Walking out, Sam was already sitting on the couch watching some black and white tv show on the ancient tv set with a beer in his hand. We both went to sit down and he noticed, “Hey I ordered some Chinese a few minutes ago.” He gave me a comforting smile as I sat down in the middle of them. Dean slanted over the coffee table to grab his beer and leaned back, putting an arm on the back of the couch.</p><p>It was normal again, at least our normal. Sitting around laughing and telling our best memories and stories we have. Just talking and eating, a little food was lost to a small food fight, but that was only because Dean said that Sam used to wet his bed. We were family again, just sitting here with him again. It felt so rare to see Dean laughing and having genuine fun, maybe it was because Sam was back. Or maybe it was the way he would smiled before he laughed. Falling all over again. Either way, it’s all that I needed. </p><p>They’re all that I needed.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Leave a kudos if you enjoyed it! Comment if I should post more smutty fanfics!</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>